


Close Enough to Touch

by jammeke



Series: Reaching Out [3]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-04
Updated: 2013-02-04
Packaged: 2017-11-28 05:55:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/671041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jammeke/pseuds/jammeke
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which actions make a lot more noise than words. Or something along those lines.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close Enough to Touch

No one raised an eyebrow at their declaration. Mostly because there was no declaration. Things continued as usual: Gwaine pulled Arthur’s pigtails and Arthur gave back as good as he got; Gwaine protected Arthur and Arthur bitched about it. At least he didn’t complain as loudly as he used to when Gwaine followed him into his bedroom these days. 

Gwaine had a feeling Merlin and Leon were aware of the change in their relationship, and Morgana had probably informed Gwen and everyone she knew of their shagging sessions too, but no one talked about it, and that was fine with Gwaine. Some things needed to be addressed, others were better left alone—and this was one of those things.

~*~

“I’ll tell my father about you, you know.” 

Arthur’s back was against the wall, and his fingers were tangled in Gwaine’s hair. His strong grip kind of limited Gwaine’s movements, but those fingers gave him lots of feelings, as did Arthur being within easy reach, so he figured he couldn’t complain. Unable to decide which parts of Arthur he wanted to touch most, he kept stroking and squeezing him in every place he could think of, every place he could find. 

Arthur had spoken very quickly. He’d probably been sitting on those words for quite some time. 

“Okay.” Gwaine continued palming Arthur’s cock through his jeans. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is. I’m not ashamed of you.”

“Hmm.” Gwaine nuzzled Arthur’s neck. “You sound very convincing, princess.”

“Don’t call me that.” The remark carried none of its usual heat. Arthur was silent for a while, hopefully distracted by Gwaine’s awesome kissing tactics, but probably— 

“Do I really?”

—not. “No.” Gwaine’s lips found the sensitive spot behind Arthur’s ear, and Arthur shuddered, a moan escaping his parted lips. “Don’t worry about it.” His mouth moved down to Arthur’s throat.

Arthur gasped. “But—I want to—I don’t want you to think that—”

“I won’t,” Gwaine reassured him, nibbling on his collarbone now. “I won’t, Arthur.”

Arthur allowed Gwaine to kiss him for a little while longer before pushing him away, a by now more than familiar crease appearing between his eyebrows. Sighing, Gwaine took a step back, and then another, right until the backs of his knees touched the edge of Arthur’s bed. He sat down. “Go on. Start talking.”

Arthur ran a hand through his hair, gaze flickering everywhere except in Gwaine’s direction. 

“You want to talk, don’t you?”

“What I really want,” Arthur said, tugging at his collar, “is to grow a spine and tell him. I mean, I should have, and I will. It’s just that—I—”

Gwaine sighed. “I just told you I understand, Arthur. What more is there to talk about?” They’d been having this conversation for weeks now, and it usually ended with Arthur frowning at various objects with reflective surfaces and Gwaine sauntering out of the room for a smoke, even though he’d kicked the habit years ago.

Arthur released his shirt and looked at him. “There isn’t.” His expression clouded over. “Not until I have a conversation with my dad.”

“Arthur, I don’t care.” Gwaine’s cock was still hard, and he’d just about had enough of this nonsense. “Really. Just get over here and bring your dick with you.”

Arthur didn’t laugh. He didn’t even snort. “Why do you even want to do this with me?” he asked, sounding far more incredulous than his character would normally allow him to—the man couldn’t pass a window or mirror without checking out his reflection. Not that Gwaine blamed him. “You could have anyone you want. And then there’s me. I can’t even admit to my father I might be—that I _am_ —”

“Arthur,” Gwaine said firmly, “I’m only going to say this once, so listen carefully.” He got up and walked over to where Arthur was still leaning against the wall, stiffly, unbearably stiffly, in utter control of his limbs if nothing else. “I’m with you because I like you. I _like_ you.” He grabbed Arthur’s upper arms and squeezed, eyes trailing over Arthur’s face slowly, gently, as though Arthur could feel the way it fluttered over his skin, pausing on that proud nose that was so dear to Gwaine, or the spot just below his left eye that was darkened with all the burdens the man carried. “I like that you read Harry Potter against your better judgment. I like how absorbed you are whenever you read those books.” 

Arthur was shaking his head, no doubt on the verge of telling Gwaine he did not like Harry Potter at all, thank you very much, but Gwaine didn’t give him the chance to speak. “I like the indignant sound sounds you make when I blow you in a public toilet, and how those sounds slowly melt into breathless pleas.”

A mortified sound escaped Arthur's lips, and Gwaine smiled and reached up, touching the corner of Arthur’s mouth with his pinkie. “I like the way you smile when you don’t think you should; that helpless twitch of your lips that makes your whole face light up. I like that when you stand up to your father—no, don’t shake your head now—it’s never for your own sake and always for that of others. I like the way you care about your friends in that stunted way of yours; that way that prevents you from showing affection even though you’re overflowing with fondness and leaking feelings everywhere. I like the barriers you set yourself, no matter how silly they are, because it means you’re trying. God, you’re always trying.”

Arthur was motionless in his arms, staring up at Gwaine with blue, blue eyes. Gwaine leaned in until his lips almost touched Arthur’s. Almost, not quite. “I like the way you act like an entitled, possessive, spoiled brat even though you never ask for anything. Arthur, I like you because you’re you. I’m with you because you’re you. I love you because you’re you.” 

With that, he bridged the small distance between them and claimed that kiss. 

Arthur melted into it, fingers slipping into Gwaine’s hair moments before his back caught up with the program and hit the wall with a thud. Gwaine plastered himself against his front, rubbing life back into the juniors. They hardly needed coercion. Arthur moaned against his mouth and Gwaine, taking immediate advantage, slipped his tongue between those lips and briefly attempted to lick the roof of Arthur’s mouth, failing as always. Why did amateur porn writers go on and on about roof-licking anyway? And what did their lousy stories say about the lengths of their partners’ tongues? 

Gwaine gave himself a good mental kick in the balls. Here he was, kissing Arthur, the primary source material of all his wet (and future) dreams, and he was thinking about silly porn he’d downloaded from the Internet, which even secluded tribes without computers would agree was a bad sign. Appropriately rebuked, Gwaine’s lips moved from Arthur’s mouth to his neck, finding a spot just beneath that impressive jaw and latching on, smiling against warm skin when Arthur’s breath hitched. He squirmed in Gwaine’s hold, pressing his lower body into Gwaine’s more insistently. 

“Gwaine.”

“Hmm-m?”

“I need—”

“Hmm.”

“Nnng!”

There was some more moaning then, alternated with some colourful swearing and gods Gwaine had never heard of himself but Arthur apparently prayed to in his hour of need. Gwaine stopped paying attention then, because there were other parts of Arthur’s body to seek out and lick, and Arthur’s tugging was becoming increasingly more insistent, so he dropped to his knees and fiddled with Arthur’s zipper, which was blocking the amazing view and decidedly too closed to his liking. 

Released from its denim prison, Arthur’s cock was heavy and red and gorgeous, and Gwaine’s fingers shaped themselves around it just so. He squeezed gently, just to hear Arthur squeak and curse. Arthur’s hands were tangled in Gwaine’s hair again. Gwaine was starting to believe they’d always find their way there. The thought made him smile. 

When he finally took Arthur in his mouth, the man had no more curses left to utter. He was slumped against the wall, hips jerking uncontrollably, breathless noises escaping him whenever Gwaine pushed a finger behind his balls or whirled his tongue over his slit. He was sweating, leaking pre-cum and basically a hot filthy mess. Gwaine couldn’t take his eyes off him, grateful for the hands still buried in his hair, keeping it from falling into his eyes. He was hard himself, growing harder with every sound Arthur made. 

When Arthur came, he came silently, eyes rolling back in his head. His cum tasted bitter on Gwaine’s tongue. He swallowed it all, not letting a single drop go to waste. 

Arthur didn’t need much time drifting back to Earth; he opened his eyes just in time to watch his softened cock slip out of Gwaine’s mouth. Shaking his head, a crooked grin on his face, he pulled at Gwaine insistently; pulled until Gwaine was stumbling to his feet, laughing silently into Arthur’s throat. Arthur’s arms wound themselves around him and they stood there for a moment, lost in each other, belonging to no one but this moment and the arms holding them. 

At some point, Arthur’s breathing washing over Gwaine’s skin became slightly less comforting and notably more arousing, and Arthur laughed and pushed Gwaine in the direction of the bed, where he proceeded to jerk Gwaine off, looking down proudly when Gwaine came with a muffled scream. Gwaine looked up at that smug face and resisted the urge to snort. Arthur was rubbish at giving head, absolutely terrible, a complete and utter disgrace, so Gwaine had gently directed his hand in the general area of his dick the first time he tried, wordlessly telling him to _just give this a try yeah?_ Arthur was nothing if not a perfectionist, and Gwaine suspected he was deliberately holding off on trying again until he’d practised on enough bananas to blow Gwaine as well as Gwaine’s mind.

Stupid princess. 

Gwaine pulled the man down for a messy kiss, licking all his teeth and then some before rolling them both onto their sides for a proper cuddle session. Within hours of meeting him, he’d already determined Arthur didn’t get nearly enough cuddles from the world at large, let alone the people who cared about him, and he’d set out to make up for the universe’s complete and utter failure early on in their relationship. Arthur had been mortified at first, but he was slowly getting to the point where he didn’t stiffen the moment someone came within a three foot radius of his person, and Gwaine could see the light at the end of the tunnel now. Murmuring endearments he knew turned Arthur into a lovely shade of red, he ran his hands all over the man, making love to him in every way but the metaphorical one. 

Afterwards, when Arthur’s knee was poking Gwaine in the stomach and his nose was lost somewhere in the tangled locks that were Gwaine’s hair, Gwaine looked down at that blond head and smiled, remembering the flush staining Arthur’s face all the way up to his high cheekbones when Gwaine told him he loved him. Arthur hadn’t said anything in return. But that was all right. He’d grown up with Uther and probably needed Power Points with lots of diagrams to understand and rightly interpret people expressing their feelings for him. Gwaine? Had grown up with a loving mother who cooked for him and sang to him and regularly told him to clean his room if he wanted her to be able to find his bed to give him a goodnight kiss, as well as an impressionable sister who thought the world of him until suddenly she didn’t and loudly told him as much every time she hugged him from behind and tugged at his hair. Gwaine didn’t need vocal translations of people’s feelings for him. Not like Arthur did. Actions made a lot more noise than words.

Or something along those lines. 

Tightening his hold on Arthur’s waist, Gwaine pulled the covers up over them both, shushing Arthur when he made a noise of protest. Gwaine wasn’t on duty tonight, would never allow himself to be distracted if that were the case—not even by Arthur’s silly face and his stupid dick—and if bad people were going to come storming into the bedroom to try and hurt Arthur, they would have to get through their awesome blanket fort first.

And Gwaine. Definitely Gwaine as well. 

Comforted by that thought, Gwaine let his eyes fall closed and soon found himself dreaming of Arthur’s beautiful body and the even more beautiful future they would build.

**Author's Note:**

> Because the world needs more Arthur/Gwaine and I wasn't done with these boys yet. Might still not be.


End file.
